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A Slight Misunderstanding
A Slight Misunderstanding is an encounter in Melody of the Maze. It comes after Anger Management, Immovable Object, Irresistible Force, or Back to School. Enemies *Disgruntled Imp (1100 Gold, 120 XP, 75 Energy, 5 HP Normal, 6 HP Hard) *Kobold Bedrobber (1100 Gold, 120 XP, 75 Energy, 5 HP Normal, 6 HP Hard) *Exasperated Shaman (1100 Gold, 120 XP, 75 Energy, 5 HP Normal, 6 HP Hard) Transcript Introduction You raise your weapon when you see him -- an orc shaman with a staff in one hand and a pouch in the other. You've fought his kind before. You know what sort of powerful forces might be concealed within either seemingly innocuous object. But he makes no hostile movements. In fact, his green face breaks into a not unfriendly grin. "You're here to sell me body?" he asks. "What?" "Body... corpse. Like person, but dead." "I understand the concept." "I was told graverobbers came here to sell bodies. Want body, so i can become necromancer. Bored with being shaman. You graverobber?" "No. Sorry." "Bah!" The sound of approaching footsteps interrupts the awkward conversation. A kobold trots down the corridor, a pickaxe grasped in one of his hands - his tool swinging at his side. His other hand is wrapped around the end of the big, bulging sack that rests against his back. You confess that you're not adept at distinguishing between similarly attired members of his species, but you believe he's one of those you killed in Marsonne's cemetery. "You graverobber?" the shaman asks. "Yes," the kobold replies. "Are you the necromancer?" "Will be, when I have corpse to practice on. You have corpse?" "It's a good corpse. Nice color. Do you have the gold?" The shaman shakes the leather pouch he's holding. It jingles. "Give me the gold, I'll give you the body." The shaman holds out the pouch. The kobold steps forward and reaches out towards it. At that moment his sack twitches. The shaman jumps back. "Corpse moved!" he says. "You must be a good necromancer," the kobold replies. "Didn't even see you do the magic." "It's still alive, you fool!" "Impossible! I-" The sack moves again. And again -- the motion rising into a wild thrashing that puffs out the fabric in every direction in turn. "Where did you get body?" the shaman asks, as the kobold struggles to keep it on his back. "Found it lying on a tomb." "On a tomb?" you ask. "You mean in a tomb?" "No!" the kobold replies. The pickaxe drops from his hand, freeing both arms to wrestle with the sack and its resisting occupant. "Was lying on top of a soft slab." "A soft slab? Tombs are usually made of stone." "This one was soft!" The kobold wraps a bear-hug around the sack, staggering to and fro as he attempts to subdue it. "Raised off the ground on a wooden frame." You consider this for a moment. "You mean a bed?" "Idiot!" the shaman yells. "You don't know difference between bed and tomb?" "What's a bed?" the kobold asks. The sack drops from his arms. There's a muffled cry of anger as it thuds on the stone floor. "It's what you sleep on," you reply. "I sleep on the floor of our cave." "Oh." The cord holding the sack closed finally yields to its resident's struggles. It parts, and an irate red face appears through the opening. An equally red body follows. The former prisoner spins around, looks down at the sack, looks up at the kobold, and starts kicking him in the shin. "That not human! That imp!" the shaman cries. "Are you sure?" the kobold asks, trying to fend off the imp at the same time. He presses a green hand against the demon's red forehead, pushing him out of kicking distance and holding him at bay. "He's red!" "Humans come in lots of different colors. Some are white, some are black..." "I'm an imp!" the imp confirms. "Oh." The demon ceases his thwarted attack. The kobold releases him. "I need human body, not imp! Can't turn imp into zombie! Need human, like..." You sigh, realizing where this is going even before three pairs of eyes turn towards you. Conclusion "Necromancer, raise thyself!" you say. Then you skewer his neck. You glance around, but unfortunately there's no one present to appreciate your joke. You look in hope towards the direction from whence the enigmatic harp music comes, but are only rewarded with an unimpressed strum of the instrument's strings. Category:Melody of the Maze